


Move Over, Felix Felicis

by KateKintail



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 13:54:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1133412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateKintail/pseuds/KateKintail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the early morning hours, Neville is contemplative.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Move Over, Felix Felicis

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Neville Longbottom Fuh-Q-Fest

In bed and propped up on one elbow, Neville leaned forward slightly. He touched the very tip of his finger to Harry’s forehead. He traced the lines of the scar, and each change in direction his finger made was answered with a sort of lurch in his stomach. Yet, when he reached the end, he traced it back, upwards again towards the black hair which was even messier than usual after a full night of sleep. Neville traced and re-traced the scar so absentmindedly that he gave a jump when he suddenly saw dazzling green eyes staring up at him.

“Sorry,” Neville mumbled, taking his hand away at once. “Know you don’t like it when everybody calls attention to it.”

“Since when are you everybody?” answered Harry, sounding a bit sleepy still and not at all inclined to discuss his status in the wizarding world. From the way his body shifted, snuggling closer to Neville amongst their sheets and blankets, he clearly had other thoughts on his mind.

Feeling a rush of warmth overtake him, Neville couldn’t help but slip an arm around Harry. “Voldemort was an idiot.” The words had slipped out of his mouth without his meaning them to. In fact, his brain had barely had time to form them before they’d come out. His expression was a cross between astonishment and embarrassment.

After a few months as lovers, Harry was used to Neville’s strange slips of the tongue, especially in the early morning hours or when attempting to initiate intimacy. This, however, seemed a bit much for Harry. His expression gave that away. “True as that is, I don’t like talking about him… and I especially don’t want to bring him into our bed.”

Neville squeaked out a barely audible apology and cuddled Harry to him. At once, Harry had his cheek against Neville’s chest, wild hair brushing Neville’s chin, and arms wrapped tenderly around. Neville felt the eyes close once more, lashes moving against his bare skin, and Neville closed his own accordingly.

There was a whole minute of pleasant, still silence. Then Harry lifted his head suddenly as though having been hit in the back by a stunning spell. “What did you mean? Voldemort was an idiot, yeah, but what did you mean by it?”

Neville petted Harry’s head, stroking the tangled hair with no intention of sorting it out, merely stroking in the way of companionable comfort. “That prophecy you told me about… I was thinking that, if he’d been smart, he’d have come after me instead of you. There’s no way I could ever stand up to him the way you have. You’ve faced him so many times; if it had been me, he’d have triumphed years ago.”

“You can’t know that,” Harry replied, probably thinking of the many other lines of the prophecy, all of which were specific but none of which really explained much of anything. “You’re just as brave as I am. And like I’ve said, so much of it was luck.”

“Well there you are then,” said Neville, nodding. “I wouldn’t have stood a chance. I’ve the worst luck in the world!”

Harry objected at once. “You haven’t! After what we’ve been through, the classes and the battles, you’re just as lucky as I am to be here now. And right here, right now, you have…” he trailed off, going a bit red in the face. Harry was not the sort to say the words so many self-centered young men would have had no reservations blurting out.

By the way his eyes flicked toward the pillow and headboard, then down to avoid Neville’s gaze. However, Neville took his meaning. Smiling, “I think you may be right about that.” He pulled Harry close again. “I am lucky.” He lowered his head and found Harry’s lips as though drawn to them by magic. The lengthy, lavish kiss began as Neville’s but soon it was of them both. Harry’s mouth moved desirously against Neville’s. Neville was sure Harry must be able to hear or taste his sigh of happiness, because Neville could surely feel Harry’s mouth curve up into a smile against his.

Neville pulled back, only slightly. His hands slid down, finding Harry’s navel. When he reached below, he found Harry’s cock standing up eagerly just for him. Soft option or not, Neville was somewhat adept at charms, especially one particular nonverbal one which caused lube to spurt from the end of his wand. With the blankets swirled around them and Harry’s legs hooked over Neville’s shoulders, Neville let out a decisive, “I’m extremely lucky.”


End file.
